Live Wire--The Dirt

06. On With the Damn Show

A/N: This chapter alludes to sexual abuse and briefly depicts physical abuse. If either of these are triggering for you, do not read the italicized text, or proceed with caution.

Tonight was the night; the debut of Mötley Crüe. What seemed like lifetimes in the making was finally going to be seen by someone other than a band member, Wren, or a band member's pissy girlfriend, but it wasn't how Wren imagined. She was never one for romanticizing events or planning out grandiose moments in her head, but she was certain that this was not how she ever imagined it would go.

"Where the fuck is Wren, dude?" Vince asked Tommy as he arrived in the green room of the Whisky.

"We thought she was working on vocal warm ups with you," Tommy sighed as he pulled black fishnets up to his elbows and turned to face Vince with concern.

"She's supposed to be!" Vince complained as he took in his appearance through a nearby mirror and grabbed a comb to re-tease his blonde locks. Tommy exchanged a confused glance with both Nikki and Mick before rushing toward the nearest payphone. As soon as he deposited his quarter, a man dressed in all black rounded the corner to give the band their five-minute warning.

"Damn it, Wren, pick up!"

*** *** ***

She was damn near twenty years old and the consequences of one stupid mistake she'd made in her early adolescence had just now circled back around to kick her in the ass. No amount of time could heal the wounds that had torn Wren's heart all those years ago. The magic Tommy had worked years prior to coax Wren to back down from both the metaphorical and physical ledge had helped, but there would always be a part of her that was scared. She hated knowing fear was an inescapable constant in her life, and she worked so hard to be strong for herself over the years. Her transformation from a year ago to today had been incredible in the way she viewed herself—not as the helpless dame her parents and society wanted her to be, but as a badass who doesn't take anyone's shit—but the mention of that name seemed to erect a barrier in her mind. All of her thoughts regarding Lovey and her bringing up Clay refused to be filtered, and had plagued her mind since the previous night.

The one conclusion Wren could come to was the Lovey was ruthless. Before the Rock Candy show, Wren had never seen the other woman, and aside from their usual exchange of angry words, they shared nothing. Wren supposed Lovey's jealousy of her being so close and involved with the band led her to digging up whatever dirt she could on Wren. It took only moments after slipping from Nikki's arms last night and returning to her room for Wren to realize Lovey didn't give a fuck about anyone. Not her, not Tommy or Mick, especially not Nikki, and maybe, not even Vince. She lived to serve herself, and if she didn't think you were of any use to her, you were nothing.

Wren tried her hardest to convince Nikki she was okay, and when he finally gave up on getting her to talk to him, she retreated to her room. She remained there for the majority of the next day, and it was from there that she heard the phone's incessant ringing as someone continually tried to call the apartment. She knew the call was directed for her, and she could deduce it was one of the guys, trying to reach her and tell her to get her ass down to the Whisky as fast as possible, but she couldn't bring herself to face that bitch again.

It had been years since she'd heard that name. It was one that sent her soul spiraling into anxious despair and rage, and she genuinely thought she'd have to hear again. Before her relationship with Tommy–before having a friend–Wren became swept up in the life of one of her classmates. They grew to be what she would consider friends before he transferred schools. Had she been able to see the future, she would have used the transfer to distance herself from him. Clay was wild, but not in the same way as Tommy, Nikki, or Vince–they were merely candles compared to the forest fire Wren had known; he was wild for the sake of seeing people around him willingly burn at his touch, and Wren was no exception.